POW
by Punisher WZ Forever
Summary: Frank returns to Afghanistan to rescue an abandoned US military working dog – a soldier - held captive by the Taliban.
1. Chapter 1

POW

Punisher

1

Nuristan region; Afghanistan

Frank nocturnally parachuted into the arid mountains of the Nuristan region that formed the natural southern base to the Hindu Kush Mountains.

Upon landing in a small clearing, Frank switched out his gear and prepared to move in on foot. He had until dawn to complete his mission. Smugglers had brought him in by plane and the same crew would be back at dawn with an old helo to extract him with. And he had no intention of leaving this hot area without his "precious cargo" – a Belgian Malinois named Jack.

The enemy had no qualms about sending the dog to a gruesome fate, being as they typically viewed the creatures as being ritually impure, and thus making them unfit to pray to Mecca.

Combined with the fact that they saw the dogs as corporeal extensions of their western enemy only served to reinforce that truth.

The dogs could be tortured, used as booby traps and bombs for western forces, or fought to the death in lucrative dogfighting tournaments while the enemy sadistically profited from it all.

Gear changed out, Frank readied his primary assault weapon and began his night trek into the mountains. If all went well, he would arrive at the suspected mountain base where Jack was being held.

Most of the public probably wouldn't understand/care about this latest self-committed mission of his – not that he cared any. They'd probably say the Punisher had finally lost his mind.

All he cared about now was leaving no soldier behind.


	2. Chapter 2

2

0114 hrs local

Frank's intel had proven solid; the old enemy base was embedded deep in the mountains – and just where he thought it would be. He further confirmed this with night vision binoculars. Switching the same binoculars to enhanced thermal imaging mode, he pinpointed the exact positions of the insurgent sentries along with their patrol routes.

As for mission timing, Frank was a little later than he cared to be. And once the shit hit the fan, he would need every minute to extract with Jack in his arms. There was also no way to determine how mobile Jack would be when Frank found him – if he found him.

Frank gripped his suppressed commando rifle with resolve, and purged all negative thoughts of finding Jack dead from his mind. He would assume Jack was alive – as he would any human soldier – until proven different.

It was also military tradition for a military working dog to be ranker higher than his human handler. This was to promote the idea of respect from the handler to the canine in his care.

Having already double checked his military issue canine harness for carrying Jack if it should be needed, Frank moved out to stealthily engage the outer enemy and infiltrate the mountain base's interior to locate Jack.

Taking up a sniper position behind a rock, Frank waited for the closest sentry to enter into sniper view.

Frank neutralized him with a textbook headshot and continued his gradual ascent into the base's outer perimeter.

Two more in insurgent guards appeared in view; Frank killed them quickly and without raising the alarm.

Taking up a concealed position on a tight, winding mountain path that would take Frank into the enemy base, Frank drew his knife and waited for the next sentry to approach him. Pressing his back against the rock, Frank held the knife low and held his breath as he heard the latest enemy draw near.

The enemy passed him...missing the man that was about to kill him.

With martial precision, Frank quietly slashed his throat and disposed of his body.

Frank now had a clear path to the enemy base's interior.

Rifle ready, Frank swept the cave tunnel entrance for booby traps. He would have to do this frequently from this moment forward.

Also at the cave entrance, Frank heard the subterranean echoes of wild hooting, cheering men...and the vicious growling, snarling and barking of canines...

It had to be a dogfighting tournament, and Frank started to feel despair tug at his hope again... Frank chose to let it go, let his training and experience guide him, and to get this job done.

He entered the cave.

The tunnel network inside the mountains that served as the base to this group of insurgents was both expansive and old. Finding the tournament wasn't obviously hard given the noise, but Frank had to remember his exit route, or find another. If not, the outcome was also equally obvious for him and Jack.

Encountering no internal sentries or booby traps, this all told Frank that they had no idea that an enemy would enter their base in this fashion – let alone for this uncommon reason.

That too gave Frank added tactical leverage.

Arriving at the tournament space where indeed a bloody spectacle of deliberately starved canine fighting was taking place, Frank counted many insurgent spectators to say the least. The fighting area was in a large well-lit cavern that ironically afforded many natural seating formations for this cruel activity.

Frank slowly studied the tournament space from behind a cave wall. He was currently positioned behind the bulk of the insurgent spectators that held up local currency for betting in their hands. Ironic as it seemed, dogfighting in Afghanistan had been virtually nonexistent during Taliban rule. Pre- and post-Taliban eras had been a different matter however. The current Afghan opium drug trade was also very lucrative.

Frank searched for Jack. Using his binoculars, he swept the pen areas that he could see. Frank was very familiar with the Malinois breed from his spec ops days. If Jack were here, Frank would find him - fast.

There were a dozen canines of mixed breeds in the makeshift pens present. Most were mangy, injured, and starved. The last aspect surely added to the tournament "appeal" here.

Though the mere sight of the dogs' cruel state angered Frank on many levels, he kept his focus like a true professional.

He was about to relocate to continue his search when he spotted a three-legged dog lying on its side at the far end of the pen area. Moreover, it had been deliberately separated from the other canines around it. Its right rear leg missing, the dog's leg had been brutally cauterized at midlevel to form a hideous stump. The dog appeared to be in additional pain – beyond the obvious. Frank had also brought a veterinarian's first aid kit, including a powerful sedative to tranquilize Jack for emergency transport pending his successful discovery and rescue.

The dog turned its lying head in Frank's direction...and seemed to look right at him as the cruelty unfolded around them.

Frank pulled out Jack's military photo from his combat vest pocket and compared it to that dog he now saw.

It was a damn near perfect match to Frank – although he'd already been sure on an instinctive level.

Perceiving this as little different from a human soldier that had been tortured and abandoned...Frank's anger gave way to pure rage.

Controlling the intense feeling that sought to propel him into combat, Frank slowly pocked the photo, removed the suppressor from his rifle...and aimed for the backs of the cheering insurgent spectators.

He intended to give them all a new spectacle...

Punishment.

He burst fired into the gathered humans, dropping many in the first action. They shouted and rushed to gather their weapons, but Frank continued to kill them before they could return fire.

When his rifle mag emptied, he drew his dual machine pistols and continued firing without reloading his rifle. Enemy surprise now gave way to terror at this crazy man that had attacked from seemingly nowhere.

When the machine pistols ran dry after killing many more, he holstered them, drew his tomahawk and combat knife, and engaged the visible remainder in hand-to-hand combat.

He was at the closest insurgent before he could shoot at him with his AK. Frank slashed at his gun arm with the knife before burying the tomahawk's blade into the side of his neck to almost decapitate him.

As that enemy fell away, another rushed at Frank and tried to butt him in the head with his rifle, but Frank ducked, upward slashed the enemy's chest with his knife, and planted his war hatchet in the enemy's head.

Only a few were left now from Frank's bloody surprise offensive.

And while they had guns, their fear and cowardice overrode their will to fight back. They tried to flee.

Frank threw his tomahawk into the back of one to kill him, gathered up a fallen enemy rifle, and fired it to kill another.

Two were left.

One of them pointed at the other and said in panicked Persian, [He's the leader; he's the one you want.]

Frank agreed, based on what he'd observed of the tournament seating arrangement. The head thug didn't bother to contest his supposed comrade's betrayal. Moreover, the head thug had appeared to be the "master of ceremonies" behind the tournament.

Frank nodded at the betraying insurgent. [Thanks.] Frank then killed him with a headshot.

Aiming for the head thug's kneecap next, Frank fired a single shot into it. It wasn't enough to blow it off but more than enough to hobble him for good.

The leader screamed and fell to his knees.

Dropping the enemy rifle, Frank reloaded his own rifle and pistols as he approached the wounded leader. The thug tried reaching for a nearby rifle but Frank kicked it out of reach.

Grabbing him by the hair, Frank pulled the screaming insurgent to his feet. He made him look at the caged Malinois and pointed at it.

[Did you capture that dog from the American military?] Frank said.

[Yes. We didn't know what to do with it. We talked about doing different things with it...]

Frank gave a slow nod. His revealed rage underscored his next words. [Is that so?]

[I'm rich; I'll pay you anything you want. Just let me live.]

[You think this is about money?]

[What is it about then?]

Frank held up a white skull calling card – drawing true terror from the thug's eyes. In English, he said, "Punishment."

Sticking the calling card into the thug's tunic, Frank patted it a couple of times, and then moved him toward the arena space where the combating canines had ceased fighting in fear due to the greater human violence around them. They now eyed Frank and the head insurgent curiously.

As Frank moved the thug toward the arena, the thug with growing terror and realization knew what Frank was going to do with him...

[No! Please! Don't!]

Frank threw the thug into the arena. It didn't take long for the warring dogs to realize what Frank had in mind.

Looking at the Taliban leader with primal rage, the dogs bore their teeth and snarled at the thug. He held up his hands. [God! Please don't let this happen...!]

He didn't get to say anything else before the dogs attacked him. As they did so, Frank went to the other pens, used his knife to cut through the leather ties holding the wooden cages shut, and let the other dogs except Jack loose into the arena.

The dogs collectively assaulted the head thug, as though knowing that he was behind their hell. Frank smiled as the dogs ripped the Taliban thug to pieces.

As the gruesome process neared conclusion, Frank sobered and did what he didn't want to do, but had to do...

Raising his assault rifle, he aimed for the suffering dogs – some of which had already started to attack one another – and mercifully, swiftly, killed them all...

Empting half a mag to do so, Frank slowly lowered his smoking weapon...sorrow seeking to overtake him...but he remembered why he was here.

He approached Jack's cage. Jack weakly growled at him.

"Jack. I'm here to get you out, buddy."

At the mentioning of Jack's classified name, the Malinois ceased growling. Frank let Jack smell his hand. Jack did so and didn't bite him.

Frank breached the cage and assessed Jack close-up. Though not a vet, Frank could tell that Jack was too weak to travel on his own. Frank did believe though that if he got him out of here he would stand a damn good chance of surviving.

Frank opted to sedate him for the extraction process. Readying the needle, Frank held it up and squirted some of it out to test it.

As he did so, Jack moaned with fear.

"It's going to be all right, buddy. I'm going to bring you home."

Frank slowly brought the needle closer to Jack...and injected Jack with the sedative. Jack didn't resist him.

It didn't take long for Jack to lose consciousness. Once so, Frank dressed his uninfected leg wound, removed him from the cage, secured him across his shoulders, and extracted Jack from the enemy base, weapon ready in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

3

The smuggler helo arrived on schedule and Frank extracted with Jack shortly thereafter.

To Frank's surprise, no enemy resistance was encountered during the extraction phase. He couldn't explain why beyond theory but his best guess was that he'd estimated higher resistance numbers than there had actually been. In other words, hope for the best but be prepared for the worst kind of thinking.

And that thinking had paid off - for both him and Jack.

Dropping Jack off safely near a US military base without detection, Frank then alerted the military to Jack's arrival. Confirming that Jack was safely in US hands again, Frank departed Afghanistan and returned to NYC.

Two weeks later, Frank found that not only would Jack make a full recovery, but that he would be reunited with his actual military handler that was about to retire from the military. Together, Jack and his handler, would return to peaceful civilian lives in southern Florida and live with the handler's family.

Hearing all of this brought a rare smile to the Punisher's face.

And it was at times like this that reminded Frank of why he was the Punisher, why the world so needed him, and why he would never want to do anything else.

Returning to more "traditional" punishment duties, Frank planned out his next mission - to find/kill a major mob hitman before he struck again.

End


End file.
